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“You thought what—that he loved you back?”
“He does, I know he does,” I said. “But he won’t admit it. He pretends he doesn’t.”
“Oh my God. Are you sure?”
“Yes, but she’s my sister,” I said. “What choice do I have?”
“Do you really love him, Lake? Really, really love him, the kind of love that makes Rhett pine for Scarlett or Miss Piggy terrorize Kermit?”
I hiccupped again, this time with a laugh. “Only him. Only ever him.”
She sucked in a breath. “You have to tell him how you feel.”
Val was a closet romantic. She wanted there to be some resolution I couldn’t give her. It wasn’t that simple. “I can’t. I’ve tried, but he won’t hear it.”
“How long have you loved him?”
I couldn’t raise my answer above a whisper. “Two years.”
“If you live to be eighty, that’s over sixty more years you have to live wondering what might’ve happened if you’d spoken up. It’ll hurt when you rip off the Band-Aid, but only for a short time. Compared to sixty years, it’ll be nothing.”
Sixty years of this hell. I didn’t expect the pain of losing him to ever go away, but surely it would dull. Surely it would get easier. But she was right. I didn’t want to live that long wondering what-if? “If I tell him, I’m betraying my own sister, Val. How can I do that?”
She heaved a sigh. “I don’t have a sister but if you ever tried to steal my fiancé, even if you truly didn’t believe I loved him, I’d scratch your eyes out. Your sister is flighty. She’ll turn it into drama and then she’ll forget all about it.” She tapped a fingertip on my shoulder, twisting her lips. “Or . . . it’s possible she’d never forgive you.”
It was more than possible. Like that night in the truck, she’d have something to hold over me for life. Something far worse than anything she’d ever done to me.
“I guess the question is whether he’s worth it,” she added.
The truth hurt. It hurt in my chest, and it hurt coming out, because I didn’t want to feel this way, but I did. “He is.”
“If he’s your soul mate, then he’s yours. He can’t have two soul mates—it’s a fact. You deserve a happy ending, even if it means you have to be selfish and greedy.”
“You’re stoned, and you’re a film buff obsessed with happily-ever-after. Can I really take your advice?”
“Then don’t,” she said. She sounded serious.
I shouldn’t tell Manning how I felt. I knew I shouldn’t. But if I didn’t speak up before the wedding, I definitely couldn’t tell him after. “What if this is my only chance?” I asked.
“Then do.”
The acoustic guitar song on the stereo strummed the painfully taut strings keeping my heart from bursting. “What song is this?” I asked.
She closed her eyes, listening. “‘Into Dust,’” she said softly. “Also Mazzy Star.”
A commotion by the fire made us both turn. Manning and Corbin stood a foot apart, arguing.
“Don’t worry about me, and I won’t worry about you,” Corbin said to Manning as Val and I approached.
“Not worried about you, but you’re driving Lake, and that does concern me,” Manning said. He waited as Corbin took a long, pointed gulp of his Budweiser. “But go ahead and finish your beer,” Manning said smugly. “Tiffany and I will take Lake home.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not driving her. She’s driving me. So you can shove—”
“She doesn’t even have her license—”
Corbin raised his voice, taking a step forward. “Shove your self-righteous, judgmental bullshit—”
“Whoa,” Tiffany said. “No need to get worked up, Corbin. He’s just looking out for her.”
“You’d think I was the fucking criminal between us,” Corbin spat.
Manning met Corbin’s stride, getting in his face. Despite Corbin’s height, next to Manning, he looked like the teenage boy he was. “I don’t care if I’m FBI’s Most fucking Wanted,” Manning said. “I’m not going to stand by and let you put her in danger. You bet your ass I’ll always call you out on that.”
“Yeah?” Corbin asked, leaning in dangerously close. “Why?”
Heavy with meaning, the word sat fat and unsubtle between the four of us—why? A question I was pretty sure Corbin had been wanting to ask since the night he’d walked me back to my cabin and Manning had gotten upset about it. Why should Manning care what I do?
“Because she’s my girlfriend’s little sister,” Manning said.
“Is that all?” Corbin asked.
“Shut up, Corbin,” Tiffany said, pushing between them. “You’re being a drunk idiot.”
Corbin picked up my heels. “Am I drunk, Lake? Am I an idiot?”
They waited for me to answer, Corbin and Manning’s eyes intently on me. I didn’t know where my loyalty should lie, but at that moment, it wasn’t with Manning or Tiffany. I went to Corbin and slipped one arm around his waist as I placed a possessive hand on his chest. “No to both.”
